Murder Weapon Lyrics

Murder Weapon lyrics

(*talking*)

Ha Slim Thug, E.S.G., Boss Hogg Outlaws

My boy C on the track, putting it down like this

Live from the Manger baby

You boys out there on that chrome, watch your back

Slippers get got, feel this

(can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)



[E.S.G.]

Now keep the sell us on the real, it's from the man with the grill

E.S.G. what's up Bun B, you from the land of the trill

Trying to get our hand on a mill, don't give a damn how they feel

I know my hood real, you see us working wood wheel

What's the deal, we still riding dirty in Texas

Got something you never seen, a 4-30 Lexus

Riding reckless bending corners, you slip you's a goner

That cat in that mask, was something mo' than marijuana

Yokohamas for twenties, riding vogues with swangas

Three TV with a DVD, Playstation 2 with disc changer

From Southside to the Manger, Boss Hoggs be wrecking

Leaving jackers confused, like presidential elections

Bubble dried what we got, where we put our cash

Keep on crying bout us, I'ma put my foot in your ass

Put a hole in your mask, for trying to stop our shine

Got a glock in my lap, at all times



[Hook - 2x]

We keep one up in the chamber, strapped for danger

These boys'll get you, for your twenties or swangas

Midwest, Dirty South, represent where you from

(can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)



[Slim Thug]

Slippers get got, jackers get shot

If I catch em trying to plot, in my parking lot

They got me for my drop, now I shop at Topeka lot

I wasn't high, cause Rodney D. Young, shot me a knot

Got back on my feet, one month later, back on the street

Twenties inches I be, on my big body fleet

Yeah you caught me slipping, but I'ma charge it to the game

But when I catch you slipping, I'ma put one in your frame



[E.S.G.]

Gon be a mask in Texas, but without change songs

Especially if them folks, pass them gun control laws

I'm trying to roll like my papa, retire one day

Till then I'm on MLK, it's on found sun down

Now what's up Southside, we smoking trees to the dawn

Forget to turn the alarm, and find your TV's gone

Get your brains blown, that glock'll pop your ass

Or should I let the electric fist, shock your ass



[Hook]

We keep one up in the chamber, strapped for danger

These boys'll get you, for your twenties or swangas

East Coast, West Coast, represent where you from

(can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)

We keep one up in the chamber, strapped for danger

These boys'll get you, for your twenties or swangas

Midwest, Dirty South, represent where you from

(can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)



[Slim Thug]

Ride with me, and come see what that North be like

We sip syrup and Sprite, and let our mind take flight

Bub light shine bright, when we creep at night

With red eyes and bad sight, cause we don't sleep at night

I'm from the side known for jacking, placking and pistol packing

It's like New Jersey Drought, but these boys ain't acting

They'll break you off, if you live on the North or the South

Cause it don't matter where you from, or where you floss

It's every man for himself, out here

And that's why we thugged out, and ride with no fear

It look like it's getting better, year by year

But I still got my chrome baretta, here in the clear

But it ain't all bad, matter fact it's all good

Cause it go down, every night up in my hood

We sip pints, blow kill and just chill

We all from the North, but we all gone still for real



[Hook - 2x]



(*talking*)

Ha, that's on the real baby

Know I'm saying, 2001 2000 and 2

Huh, Boss Hogg Outlaws we ain't half stepping

(can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)

It go down, I don't care where you at

What's up East Coast, know I'm saying

New York, down Jersey, Virginia, all them boys out there

I know y'all got y'all murder weapon

(can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)

What what, Midwest ha, where you at know I'm saying

St. Louis, on up through, I know them boys out there

Got they murder weapon, you know what I'm saying, keep it real nigga

(can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)

What what, all my West Coast dogs, you know what I'm saying

That C walking, B walking doing your god damn thang

I know you got your motherfucking murder weapon out there baby

(can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon)

Huh huh, what what down here in the Dirty South

That's how we do it, Boss Hogg Outlaws, Big Dinero Entertainment

Boss Hogg Entertainment, S-E-S, what what what

My big dog Sin huh, that's the style

Them boys got they murder weapon, what's up M-O-E

Ha it's going down boy, feel this

(can't never leave the crib, without a murder weapon), huh